Magnetic
by imogensrocket
Summary: Since the moment they met, Imogen Moreno and Jake Martin were stuck in an endless loop of love and hate. But it was the moments in between, when they'd open up and let down their walls that made them believe they were magnetic.
1. The Second Chance

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.**

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**The Second Chance**

Imogen Moreno sat outside at the picnic tables reading her book Ms. Dawes had assigned for the senior year reading project, her notebook open to a page filled with scribbles on the symbolisms and main points of _The Awakening_. She picked up her ham sandwich and took a bite as she added another point to her ever growing list.

It was a nice spring day. The air was fresh, the flowers blooming scented the air, and she was thankfully under a shady tree.

She was so engrossed with her work that she didn't notice someone disturb her area by sitting directly across from her until a ticket was dropped on to her page. The action was so sudden it caused her to jump and smack her knee against the table in surprise.

"Ow," she moaned in pain, dropping her hold on the book to see it slam shut without her hand holding it down and the ticket falling through the crack in the table and fluttered to the ground. "Dammit," she cried out, trying frantically to stop her book from inevitably closing shut. She angrily looked up to berate the person for causing her a mini heart attack and making her lose her place only to come face-to-face with Jake Martin. "What the hell are you playing at; you scared me half to death!"

"Somebody's a bit jumpy today," he said his usual smug smirk still in place as he quirked an eyebrow and then he glanced down at the table to her notebook. "Jesus Christ, Moreno, did you even put the book down since our last meeting?"

Imogen gave him a scowl, trying in vain to find her spot with one hand as the other rubbed her knee to ease the pain the wood had caused. "Shut up, you stupid jerk, someone has to take this project seriously since it is worth _forty_ percent of our overall grade," she snapped, repeating what she always said to him whenever he brought up their English project. As if he never contributed to it, which was mostly true. He'd done the oral reports and done a bit of research, but overall Imogen had done the bulk of the work. And she never let him forget it.

"Yeah, yeah, it's nothing you haven't said to me before," he said rolling his eyes and waving a hand at her comment, bored with hearing her lecture.

"Too bad it's never stuck in that overly thick skull of yours," Imogen said, bending over to reach under the table for the fallen ticket and snatched it up from the grass. She righted herself on the bench and began to read it over, a disbelieving frown blooming on her lips. "An art showing of all of _Irene Fields' _work at the art gallery?" She read with disbelief, looking up at him with an inquisitive face. "Jake what's this about? I mean you hate things like this."

"Well the so-called "stupid jerk" got enough money on his last job to afford enough for two tickets to s_omebody's _favorite photojournalists showing this Friday. It's an apology for bailing on you the last time I promised you a date," Jake said, his smirk in place and arms crossed over his toned chest in a nonchalant manner, but his eyes betrayed him with their hopeful spark.

Imogen let out a stunned gasped, "No way! Jake, these have been sold out for months! How on earth did you get these?"

"My dad or Helen knew a guy who was happy to give up the tickets. Something about a divorce and a cheating wife and he didn't want her to have the tickets," Jake said with an uncaring shrug of the shoulders. "So are you in?"

Imogen gave a coy smile, fanning herself with the ticket. "Jake Martin, are you asking me out on another date?"

"It all depends," he said, reaching across the table to snatch the ticket from her hand.

"Depends on what?" Imogen asked skeptically, raising a wary eyebrow and crossing her.

"Are you agreeing to go with me?"

Imogen pretended to ponder it over, making a big to do of tapping her chin and even flipping through her day planner. "Well I am _so _busy Friday with band practice and of course there's Fiona and Bianca's sleepover to consider…" She said with a sigh, tapping on Friday, the page covered with a long list of plans she had made.

She could see Jake's face twisting into disbelief and she suppressed a smirk. "I _guess _I can find a way to squeeze you in _somewhere_." And with that she snatched her ticket back from Jake's hand with a laugh and gathered up her stuff.

"So I'll pick you up at six," Jake asked to her as she made her way on to the sidewalk.

"Don't bail on me again," she said warningly, narrowing her eyes, "or I won't be as forgiving as the last time."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jake said with a nod, "but you did agree that my no-show wasn't really my fault. I mean how on earth was I supposed to know that my dad would need me to work a job with him the exact moment I went to leave to get you."

"I still think you made that up, you know. It's a way to convenient story, even for a complete kiss ass like you," she said with a smirk.

Jake's jaw dropped and he stood up and moved to stand in the street with her. "I am not a kiss ass, Moreno, and I kind of resent that, I was helping my dad with work."

"Well if the shoe fits." Imogen said with a shrug.

Jake's jaw clenched in annoyance and he scoffed, "I think I want my ticket back, Moreno," he said, holding his hand out for the ticket.

"Sorry, Jake Martin, no can do, but I will see you Friday at six pm on the dot, or else." She said pointedly, as she placed the ticket into her bag and turning on her heel and making her way across the street and back into the school leaving Jake behind to look after her with a look of disbelief and annoyance.

_Damn that Imogen Moreno. _He thought angrily a scowl on his face. She always knew how to one up him. But he couldn't help the smile that bloomed across his face. He had gotten one thing out of their encounter, she had finally agreed to go on a date with him again, and this time his father would be up in the cabin with Helen and no one would be around to screw up his chances of getting the car, or needing him for some stupid reason. He'd finally get his date with the girl with the weird pigtails and cat ears.

With that happy thought the bell rang and he made his way with the throngs of students up the steps into the school having another reason to be excited for the upcoming Friday.


	2. The News Flash

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.**

**Author's Note: **Before you continue reading on I want you to know these snapshots are chronologically out of order, but will at times have hints to things relating to the show. I guess you will all just have to pay attention to clues and hints that are from season 11-12 to see if it's told their junior or senior year and where they would be in the show. Hope you all enjoy!

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**The News Flash**

"Clare still loves him you know?" Imogen said shattering the familiar silence between them as they sat alone in the auditorium.

Jake was taking measurements on a piece of wood writing them down on a scrap piece of paper, as she reviewed her lines for the final rehearsal after school.

It was their routine. They always ended up alone there somehow, neither one would talk to each other; they'd just do what they came there to do in silence.

Jake looked up from his work an annoyed expression plastered on his face, but he didn't glance over at her. "What the hell are you talking about?" He snapped at her, rolling up his tape measurer and shoving it in his tool belt.

"Your girlfriend, Clare Edwards, she's still head-over-heels for Eli Goldsworthy," she said in a knowing singsong voice from where she sat at the edge of the stage, her legs swinging, the heels of her sneakers thumping against the bottom of the stage with each kick.

Jake rolled his eyes, his lip curling as he made his way over to his tools for the saw. "You don't know what you're talking about, Moreno."

"Don't I? Trust me, Jake Martin, when I say you're girlfriend still has it bad for him." Imogen said, not looking over to him, keeping her eyes on the words in her script.

"And how would _you_ know this?" He asked coolly, finally giving in and looking over at the girl with the cat ears.

"I'm just keen observer of human behavior," she said, flipping a page of her script, "and I've seen that lovesick look she gives him. I invented that love sick look."

Jake scoffed. "You're crazy. And besides, why are you shoving your nose into our business? Don't you have better things to do being Goldsworthy's sidekick?"

"I thought someone should tell you the truth, Jake Martin, don't give your heart over to someone who won't take care of it, it just leads to heartbreak and disappointment." She said knowingly. "And for the record, I'm not Eli's anything. Not anymore."

The sadness in her voice made Jake's anger subside a bit. He felt sorry for Imogen; the girl had, from what he'd seen so far, no friends. She was all alone and people went out of their way to make fun of her.

"What happened?" He asked as he began to saw the wood.

"I let him use me. I did everything he asked and he just threw me away like I was nothing. I wanted to believe he was over Clare, that he liked me just as much as I liked him. But I was wrong. I'm always wrong…" She said, feeling tears prickle her eyes.

Jake gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Moreno."

"Don't be, I was really, really stupid. Love is the dumbest thing to ever exist." She said, looking up from her script to keep the tears from freeing.

"What if it isn't?" Jake asked.

"Then I don't care enough to find out." She said fiercely.

"I can understand that. I didn't want to do relationships either, but somehow I wound up being with Clare." He said, putting down his saw and going over to sit next to her.

Imogen laughed. "Just promise me that you'll be careful. Wearing your heart on your sleeve only works in movies and books, it's always better to be on the defense."

Jake let out a laugh. "Your first heartbreak and you already think you're an expert."

"It's not like I've seen this happen, or had it happen to me before, Jake Martin." She said, playing with the corner of her script, folding up and down until it began to tear.

Jake lay himself down on the stage and put his hands on the back of his head, the red uniform polo riding up to reveal a bit of his stomach, his long legs hanging off the edge. "Do I hear a life story coming on?" He asked her teasingly.

"No," Imogen laughed, smacking him in the stomach, "I'm just setting the record straight for you."

Jake snorted. "I doubt it. You know you're just dying to tell me all the juicy details of your exciting life."

"Trust me; my life isn't all that exciting. It's pretty boring actually." She said tossing her script to the side as she lay down beside him, placing her hands behind her head.

"Really, Imogen Moreno and boring can actually mix? I thought it'd be like oil and water." Jake gasped in mock shock.

"Alert the Toronto Interpreter," Imogen said jokingly, looking up at the cat walk.

"Oh I was thinking of alerting the Degrassi Daily, shock one crowd at a time. You'd make the front page, for both though. I can see the headline now: Imogen Moreno: A Normal Teenage Girl." He said, putting his hand up to emphasize the words of the headline.

Imogen giggled. "You are such a dork," she said, rolling her eyes at him playfully.

"But it got you to smile, didn't it?" he asked her giving her his usual smug smirk.

"Don't go getting yourself an inflated ego, Martin; my smiles have nothing to do with you or your dorkiness." She said, turning her head to look at him with a broad toothy smile.

"Oh, I'm sure," he said playfully rolling his eyes and shoving her gently.

The bell sounded signaling that lunch was finally over, with a sigh Imogen sat up and gathered her script and shoved it in her bag. "Well I have Spanish, hasta luego, Jake Martin, and thanks for this." She said, giving him a small smile.

Jake nodded to her, sitting up himself to go clean up his supplies, knowing he'd be staying afterschool to finish the final set.

"Hey, Moreno," Jake called after her as she was about to open the door to the auditorium.

Imogen turned her head to look at him. "Yes, Jake?"

"For the record I think you deserve better than Eli. You're worth more than what he could ever give you."

Imogen gave him a sad smile. "Thank you, Jake Martin." She said, her voice was tiny and for the first time it sounded a bit insecure. "Maybe one day I'll actually believe that." And with that she headed off to class feeling happier for the first time in a very long time.


	3. The Directions

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.**

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**The Directions**

"Jake face it, we're lost." Imogen said, letting the map that was resting on her lap fall to the floor with an annoyed scowl.

"We're not lost, we're just…" He trailed off, not wanting to admit his brutal defeat.

"Lost," she deadpanned, taking her phone of her pocket to see if she had a signal yet.

Jake gave her an angry scowl.

They had been driving for nearly an hour down this stupid back road and thanks to her stupid detour he had gotten lost.

"We should stop and ask for directions," she said, heaving a sigh as she tossed her useless cell phone into the cup holder and leaned her head against the cool glass of the window as some female country singer wailed on and on about her fallen love. "We're just getting more and more lost and our cells have no service."

"We don't need to get directions, Imogen," he snapped, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. "I know where I'm going, okay?"

"No, not okay. Quit being such a guy, we're going to run out of gas soon," she snapped back, motioning her hand to the gas gage with the red arrow going dangerously to the _E_.

"Well we wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't made me stop so you could use the washroom!" He said angrily, turning to look at her.

Imogen's mouth parted and her face turned red with anger. "Well pardon me for having to go to the bathroom! Next time I won't bother asking, I'll just use the seat! And how the hell are we lost anyways? You always talk about this stupid cabin, you of all people should know the way!"

"Well I wouldn't be lost if you hadn't made me stop!" He argued back as a ding sounded through the car. "Dammit!"

"What?" Imogen asked, as she sat up in her seat to get a better look at the dashboard.

"We're driving on the reserve tank." He said.

"Great, can we stop and ask now?" Imogen asked.

"Oh yeah, let's stop and ask all the hundreds of people who are around to help us." Jake drawled sarcastically.

"I meant turn around and go back to the main road, you stupid ass!" She said shooting him a withering stare.

"Well the reserve tank isn't that big, we're going to be stuck somewhere either way." He said, cursing under his breath.

"Super," Imogen said, regretting her decision of taking Jake up on his offer. If she had stayed home she wouldn't be stuck in this stupid truck with him and above all else, she was tired of listening to his stupid, whiny country music. It all was driving her insane, which she felt was saying a lot.

"And you said I have a negative attitude." Jake scoffed, turning the AC off and rolling down the windows, trying in vain to preserve what little gas the truck had left to spare.

"I've been asking you for the past twenty minutes to get directions, but _no _for some stupid reasonwe couldn't do that! Heaven forbid Jake Martin does something reasonable for once in his life! And besides, turning around is probably best, if we run out of gas at least we won't be too far away when we have to walk!"

"I'll make you walk there," Jake threatened her, tired of hearing her complaints and not making any move to turn around.

"Stop the truck and I will," she said fiercely, her eyes alight with hate and anger.

"Fine," Jake said, slamming the breaks.

With that Imogen unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed her overnight bag and got out of the truck, slamming the door hard as hard as she possibly could behind her.

Jake watched this all with a look of disbelief. Was she out of her already insane mind? They were out in the middle of nowhere, and glancing down he saw that she had also left her phone in the cup holder.

He pulled his truck over to the side of the dirt road, taking the keys from the ignition and grabbed her phone and went after her.

"Imogen, wait!" He called after her, and of course she didn't. _The stubborn little irritating brat_, he thought to himself as he jogged up to her.

"Imogen, get back in the truck." He said, holding her phone in his hand.

Imogen just kept walking.

"Imogen, c'mon, how old are you?" He shouted at her back.

"That all depends, Jake Martin," Imogen said, her tone flat and uncaring. "When I get together with you I can practically feel the wrinkles setting in."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Just get back in the damn truck," he ordered her.

"No." She said simply as she kept on walking.

"Imogen, please," he pleaded with her, taking an entirely new approach with her. You did catch more flies with honey, after all.

"And why should I?" She asked as she kept going in the opposite direction of his truck.

"Because," he said, "I can make it worth your while."

"And what can you _possibly _offer me. I mean this offer was as bad as they can get." She said.

He rolled his eyes and stood in her pathway. "I can offer you this," he said, grabbing her shoulders and leaning down, capturing her lips into him.

Imogen shoved him away. "Jake, what on earth do you think you're doing?" She yelled.

Jake took a step away from her. "Sorry," he said, his face pained at her rejection. "I just –"

But he didn't get to finish his sentence because the girl had grabbed him by the neck and forced her lips upon his with bruising force.

"You talk too much," she said simply, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and made her way back to the truck. "Now let's go get some directions before nightfall."

Jake just looked at her retreating form completely dumbfounded before snapping out of it and followed the girl into the truck.

He was use to Imogen's spontaneous and confusing actions, but he'd never expected her to kiss him back.

Climbing into the truck he shoved the key into the ignition and began to head for the main road with her telling him that if they had enough gas there was a service station just before he pulled into this road.

She had picked up the fallen map and began to read it again in the futile hope of finding some hidden way to get to the cabin on a reserve tank.


	4. The Explanation

**Disclaimer: I don't own degrassi.**

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**The Explanation**

Jake had spotted Imogen easily in the crowd of students piled into the dance floor; she was a bit hard to miss.

Her hair was done in a top knot and her dress was of purple and silver material that was totally her and he could see the silver part sparkle whenever it hit the light. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by her as she danced with Adam Torres, and he couldn't help the jealousy he felt watching Adam's hands hover by her waist in a respectable manner, and the fact that Imogen had thrown her head back in laughter at something the boy had said.

"You like her," Mo said suddenly in a bemused voice.

Jake jumped a bit, but was able to keep his cool as he looked over at his best friend.

"Excuse me?"

"You like Imogen," Mo said bluntly as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his best friend.

Jake snorted, "You're crazy man."

"Am I?" Mo asked, completely unconvinced.

"Yes, you are. I seriously don't like Imogen like that. Hell, I barely like her at all." He said, trying to convince himself more than Mo.

"Of course you do. So why did you write her a letter explaining why you couldn't make your date?" Mo asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"It wasn't a date. And the letter was because she won't talk to me. Besides, why would I like her? We can barely stand each other!" Jake said, turning to look back at her as she made her way over to the snack table.

"You two have extreme sexual tension," Marisol said as she sauntered over, putting her arm around her boyfriend.

Mo let out a laugh at Jake's obvious discomfort to his girlfriend's comment, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

"What 'sexual tension'?" Jake scoffed. "Imogen and I hate each other, that's all. If it wasn't for this stupid English project we wouldn't even talk to one another."

He knew that was a lie. The two had always talked whether it would be their bickering or just finding each other within the crowds, Dawes's assignment was just more of an excuse for them to be around each other. But he would never admit that to Mo or Marisol, it was just feed into their stupid accusations.

"Of course you two hate each other," Marisol said sarcastically, observing her newly manicured nails with a raised eyebrow and knowing smile. "That must be why you want to _do_ her just as badly as she wants to _do_ you."

Jake's face turned a million shades of red at that. "Okay, say that was true, which it's _not_, she hates me."

"Oh, c'mon, Jake," Mo said, clapping him on the shoulder, "don't be so dramatic."

"No, I'm serious, you didn't see the look on her face when I tried to talk to her, I really hurt her." He said with a pained expression.

"Well she got your letter, right? If she read it she'll understand. Imogen is pretty forgiving, after all." Mo said encouragingly.

"So go over there and ask her to dance!" Marisol said, giving the boy a light shove towards Imogen.

Jake gulped as he looked over at her. Wiping his hands on his pant legs he made his way through the crowds.

"Someone's hungry," he commented as he came up behind her and grabbing a plastic cup and filling it with some punch.

Her body tensed at the sound of his voice, but she continued to pile food onto the flimsy paper plate. "It's for me and Adam," she said, making no move to look over at him.

"So… did you get my letter?" He asked her as he took a sip of the fruity beverage.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Jake, don't worry I got your ridiculous letter. It was poorly written, but we can't exactly expect much from a boy who can barely pay attention in English."

He felt his cheeks burn at her insult and he felt something ache inside of him.

"Always with the bitchy low blows, aren't you?" He snarled at her.

"The truth hurts, Jake Martin, except it." She said, picking up the plate to make her way over to her table, but Jake wasn't having it.

"I meant what I said in that letter, Imogen. You have to believe that." He said, trying to look into her dark eyes, but she kept her eyes set on her destination.

"I waited for you, you know. I gave it quits after nearly four hours and headed to Fiona's in tears. I thought something had happened to you at first, because why would you of all people stand me up, or not call and tell me that you weren't coming. She said, and turned to look at him. "I wanted to believe the best in you and I was stupid, _again_."

"Imogen, I'm not Eli," he said, feeling the dull ache again.

"No? You hurt me, just like he did." She said, making her way to leave.

"Imogen, please… dance with me."

She gave him a look of disbelief. "You're kidding me, right. Please tell me you're joking."

"Just one dance and a chance to explain everything and if you still don't believe me the only time we'll ever have to talk to each other is when we work on English." He bargained with her.

"Fine, I'll give you your stupid dance," she said, setting the plate down and grabbed his hand.

The song that was playing was nearing its end, and it changed to a slower, more romantic song. Jake looked over to see Mo giving him the thumbs up from where he was dancing with Marisol. He clenched his jaw. Figures Mo would be behind a slow romantic song for him and Imogen.

He put his hands awkwardly on her waist and she glared at him.

"I'm waiting," she snapped at him impatiently.

"The night we were supposed to go out my dad called me from a job he was doing. He said he really needed my help, and ever since I decided I wanted to go into construction and skip college he's been trying to keep me off jobs. I guess I wanted my chance to prove to him that I knew what I was doing and in the process… I didn't mean to hurt you Imogen. I swear I'd never hurt you intentionally."

"It doesn't matter if you meant it, Jake. I'm happy for you that your dad is giving you a second chance, but… it hurts to know that you're so disposable, okay."

He could hear her voice crack and felt his heart literally shatter.

"I thought that maybe I finally found someone who cared about me enough. And maybe I'm being dramatic, but you hurt me after I put everything out there. It's the biggest slap in the face."

"Imogen, I –" He began to say, but the song ended, and his time was up.

"I guess I'll see you in English," she said as he let go over her and she made her way from the gym.

"So," Mo said coming up behind him. "How did it go?"

Jake didn't say anything back to his friend, he just watched as the girl faded away into the crowd, something inside him snapping as he ran after her.


	5. The Meeting

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi**

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**The Meeting**

Jake was late, really late.

And it was his second time so he'd probably get a detention.

S_tupid school_, he thought angrily. _Stupid damn city and its stupid traffic!_

Just as he rounded the corner, full speed, he crashed into somebody who toppled back into the floor with the force.

He let out a curse. Not because of his tardiness, or the fact that he'd crashed into an actual person, but because a hot drink had crushed into his chest.

He stared at the girl who was rubbing her bottom and was glaring at him behind a pair of glasses.

"Dammit," he cursed, as the hot liquid dripped from his polo. He tried to tug the fabric from his chest, looking like an idiot in the process, but he didn't care.

Suddenly he heard the girl giggle from where she sat on the floor and he looked down to finally take in the girl who had knocked over in his mad dash to class.

The girl was tan, and very cute. She sported a similar red polo and khaki pants and combat boots and hipster lenses. But what drew his eyes was her hair that was in matching weird pigtails.

He clenched his fists in furry, dropping the red fabric of his polo. "This isn't funny!" He growled at her, making her laughter stop instantly. "You spilt your drink on me, and now I'm even later than before and I'll have to wear a stained shirt all day!" He ranted feeling the anger build up in him as he looked at her face, which was now supporting an angry frown.

Words couldn't even describe how much he hated this place, and the fact that his dad had to move them here in the middle of the school year without really discussing it.

And he was pissed at this girl with her weird pigtails and hipster style for spilling her hot drink on him and staining his shirt that'd he'd have to wear for the entire day.

"Oh," she said suddenly, glaring up at him. "I'm so terribly sorry. I guess I should have anticipated you running into me and not have bought a tea so I could spill it on you!" The girl snapped at him, her cheeks reddening with anger and her own tiny fists clenched in rage.

She stood up in one motion, and picked up her now empty cup, through it into a trash can and began to leave, making a big to do of stomping her feet against the linoleum floor.

"Wait," Jake said, tossing his head back, feeling guilt surge through him.

"What?" She asked, not stopping to face him, her thin arms crossed across her chest.

"I'm sorry, I just had a shit morning, and I didn't mean to take it out on you." He said, rubbing his neck awkwardly, wincing slightly at his lame apology.

She paused and turned to face him. "Yeah, well, I'm sorry for dropping my tea on you, even though you were the one to run into me."

"It's okay, I guess. "I'm sorry that I ran into you and yelled at you. I'm Jake, by the way," he added feeling awkward as he walked over to where she stood and held out his hand for her.

She stared at his hand; eyes narrowed as if she didn't know what to do with it, and then finally, after a moment of contemplating what she'd do, grasped it into her own small hand.

"Imogen Moreno, please to meet you." She said, and then dropped his hand as if it had burned her. "You're that new kid, aren't you, the construction worker who moved here from the country side?"

Jake stared at her. "Yeah, how did you know all of that?"

"I happen to be a keen observer of human behavior. And you should probably know that gossip spreads like wild fire here. People talk about everything and I just listen." She shrugged.

"Right," he said, awkwardly. People were talking about him? Really?

"Look, I'm late for physics, again, so I'll probably see you around today, Jake Martin." She said, turning to head in the direction to her class.

"We have a class together?" He asked, wondering if he had seen her around school at all the past week.

"Oh yes," she said, turning her head to face him, but not stopping at all. "We have media immersions and history together. I'll see you then. Try not to miss me too much."

As she walked away he felt a bit guilty that he'd never noticed a girl who stood out like a sore thumb at this school, but brushed it off. He had bigger things to worry about than an odd girl. He was late and his shirt was now damp and cold.

This was going to be a long day.


	6. The Partnership

**Disclaimer: I don't Own Degrassi.**

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**The Partnership**

Imogen stared at Ms. Dawes, her mouth opened into a wide "o" in complete disbelief. She thought she had been hearing her favorite teacher wrong.

"Hello, partner," Jake Martin said with a smug smirk plastered on his stupid face. The very sight of him after what he'd done to her made her want to take her combat boot and plow it into his stupid face.

Her hand shot into the air and she didn't wait for Ms. Dawes to call on her. She was feeling very impatient and high strung. "Ms. Dawes, there has to be some mistake."

Ms. Dawes looked at the bespectacled girl from the top of her glasses, making Imogen shift uncomfortably in her seat. "And why is that Imogen?"

It wasn't said in a harsh way, Ms. Dawes was a teacher so naturally she was treating Imogen's argument like a question that needed to be solved, and the knowledge of that made Imogen livid. For years she'd put up with doing all the work, but not this time. Not for him!

"Because we can't work together," she said simply.

"Hmm," Ms. Dawes said, observing the stubborn girl and the smug boy. She could see very clearly what was going on here. "I think you and Jake will make a great partnership, Imogen. I think like the sun and the moon, you two will balance each other out wonderfully."

Imogen stared at her teacher even more dumbstruck than before, causing Jake to burst out into laughter.

"This isn't funny, you stupid ass!" Imogen said, pointing her slender finger into his nose. "There is _nothing _funny about this!"

Her anger made Jake laugh even harder, making Imogen give a small, clenched jaw scream.

He was so irritating.

"You're so uptight, Moreno, you need to lighten up." Jake said suavely, leaning back in his seat.

"Really? Should I become more like you? A lazy, unambitious slacker who will most likely end up working at the Dot for the rest of his days, if they even hire him?" She asked with mock wonder.

Jake sneered. "I have more ambitions than you probably have in one ridiculous pigtail." He growled at her.

"Yeah right," Imogen scoffed at him.

Jake's face had turned red with anger by then, and he had sat forward in his chair, getting dangerously close. "What's you're ambition? Getting Eli Goldsworthy to fall in love with you and marry you so you can get a precious happy ending."

Imogen was taken aback by his comment. It stung. She had told him that in confidence and there he was throwing it in her face, even if she deserved it for what she said.

"Actually my ambition is to get as far away from you as humanly possible!" Imogen snapped back, her face red and eyes close to welling up with tears.

The bell thankfully decided to ring at that moment and Imogen wasted no time gathering her stuff and heading out the door.

* * *

Imogen walked hastily to her locker where her best friend Bianca stood fixing her lip gloss.

"What's up with you?" Bianca asked in her normal blunt manor.

"Jake Martin." Imogen said through clenched teeth as she opened her locker and placed her books inside angrily.

"What did he do to you this time?" Bianca asked, tossing her lip gloss into her bag.

Imogen sighed. "Just being his usual irritating self. He's my English partner for the senior project."

Bianca winced. "Good luck."

"I'll need all that I can get. He's so smug and _urgh_! I hate him!" Imogen said, slamming her locker.

"You know," Jake's voice came from behind her, making both girls spin around to face him. "Hate is a very close emotion to," he winked and nudged her, leaning down so his breath tickled the spot between her ear and neck as he whispered in a seductive voice "love."

Imogen nearly lost the minimum composure she had. "You wish, Martin."

Jake shrugged, smirking as he walked away laughing.

"That stupid, arrogant ass!"

Bianca laughed. "C'mon, let's get you some lunch."

Imogen was sitting at the Dot, reading a book, her coffee and scone abandoned as the plot thickened.

"Hey, partner!" His voice said, as the chair across from hers scraped across the floor, causing her to look up in irritation.

"What the hell do you want?" She snapped, annoyed that he was interrupting her peaceful afternoon.

He gave her a mock look of sadness. "Why Imogen "Miss Ambitious" Moreno, I thought you'd want to get started on our project, not lounge around and waste time like a _lazy slacker_."

She glared at him and picked up her book and began to read.

"So I was thinking," he said, reaching to grab her scone, which she instantly took action against by slapping his hand away.

"I'm pretty surprised you can think." She snapped, not looking up from her book, rereading the same sentence over and over.

Jake ignored the comment. "We should work together every day; really get to know each other."

"I know more than enough about you, Martin." She said.

"Oh do you?" He asked, making her grate her teeth in annoyance. "Then what's my favorite color."

"Probably shit brown." She grumbled, angrily biting into her scone.

"Wrong!" He said in an annoying singsong voice, making people glance over at them. "It's actually green."

"Whoopee," Imogen muttered, taking another bite of her cold scone, not looking up from her book, even though she gave up trying to read it.

"And what's your favorite color, Immy?" He asked, nudging her knee with his own.

"One: Only my friends can call me Immy." She said, pointing a finger in his face, without looking from her book. "And two: That is none of your business."

"Ooh, so secretive." Jake said, placing his chin into his palm.

"You're a right pain in the ass. Did you know that?" Imogen said, finally looking up from her book to see how ridiculous he looked batting his eyelashes at her innocently.

"You know a few people told me that once or twice, but I think they're mistaking me for someone else." He said.

"Well trust me, they aren't."

With that she gathered her bag and scone, leaving behind her cold coffee and headed towards the door.

"Aww c'mon don't leave." Jake said, going after her.

"Look, here's the deal, pal." Imogen said once they were far enough away from the Dot. "You won't bother me. I will do most of the work and you will sit there and look pretty. Got it? You will not bother me. You will not talk to me. It will be like you don't even exist."

Jake only smirked. "You know, it's almost as if you don't like me."

Imogen only responded with a strangled noise, stamped her foot and turned on her heel to the direction of her house.

"See you around, _partner_!" Jake said, waving goodbye to her.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I am so sorry I took a hiatus from this story, this chapter has been sitting in my mind for months but I started a few new stories (some of which you should consider checking out –winkwink-) and didn't have the time to type it out or write it down, and I'm glad I didn't because this is my favorite. I kind of always imagined Jimogen to be an extremely love-hate relationship (if you didn't already guess). So how many of you beautiful people loved the locker scene? I didn't know if it was very Jake-like or not, but I loved it so much I couldn't find it in me to cut it out.

Next part coming soon, I pinky promise.


	7. The English-Spanish Lesson

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.**

* * *

The English-Spanish Lesson

Imogen Moreno arrived at the Martin-Edwards' home with Spanish and English notes in hand. She and Jake had a lot of work to cover and not a lot of time to cover it.

Along with the senior project, Jake was having trouble passing Spanish, not to Imogen's surprise; Jake was pretty bad when it came to school. After much begging and pleading from the boy Imogen had finally given in and agreed to tutor him.

Climbing up to the porch she rang the doorbell to have Clare Edwards answer the door.

"Hey, Imogen," Clare said, stepping to the side to let Imogen in.

"Hello, Clare Edwards, where's your stepbrother?" she asked wiping her combat boots on the welcome mat and stepped inside the foyer.

"He's in the living room watching T.V.," Clare said rolling her eyes. "He's been hogging it all morning long with ESPN. Can I get you anything to drink or eat?"

"No, thank you though." Imogen said with a smile and she made her way to the living room where a sports' reporter was on the flat screen recapping last night's hokey game.

"So are you eager to learn español, Jake Martin?" Imogen asked from the entry way. Jake, having been oblivious to anyone's arrival, jumped and spilt the bowl of chips in his lap.

"Shit," he swore loudly as the plastic bowl crashed to the carpeted floor. "Geeze, Imogen!"

"Opps, sorry," she said coming over to help him pick the chips up from the floor.

"It's fine," he muttered, but she could tell he was annoyed by the mess.

* * *

Once the mess was mess was taken care of Imogen and Jake moved to the kitchen to begin studying for their Spanish test on Monday.

"See I don't get conjugations," Jake said, opening the fridge and took out two cans of soda, handing one to Imogen. "Like what's the point of having ten different ways of saying estar?"

"Well I'm pretty sure if you don't conjugate your verbs you could insult someone," Imogen said opening the soda tab.

"People are too sensitive nowadays," he mumbled, taking a swig of his _Dr. Pepper_.

Imogen felt her lips twitch upwards at the comment, but forced her face back into a stoic mask. "Enough fooling around, Jake Martin, the faster we finish studying the sooner we can get our outline done for the assigned chapters."

Jake sighed and placed his palm in his hand, "Okay, teach, let's get this over with."

Imogen rolled her eyes. "You're enthusiasm is literally killing me," she deadpanned as she pulled out her flashcards from her bag.

Jake gave a chuckle at that. "C'mon, you know you could care less about Spanish." Jake said.

"Yeah, but I, unlike you, want to pass. What's the point of failing?" Imogen said with a shrug as she shuffled her cards.

"Moreno, we're not playing poker," Jake said snatching the flashcards from her hand.

"In a moment I'm going to play Russian roulette with your face if you keep up your negative attitude!" Imogen snapped at him.

"You're going to sit there and have the nerve to call me out on _my _negative attitude, are you kidding me? You have been nothing but the biggest stuck up bitch since we became partners for this stupid English assignment!" Jake said, tossing his hands into the air.

"Oh is that so?" Imogen snapped, snatching her flashcards from his hands and shoving them into her bag. "Well this stuck up bitch is tired of doing _all_ the work and you getting _half_ the credit!"

With that she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and made her way to the front door.

"Leaving so soon?" Clare asked from the dining room table, taking her noise cancelation headphones off.

"Yeah, I'll see you later, Clare." Imogen said, walking to the door.

"Imogen, wait, I'm sorry!" Jake called after her.

Imogen snorted, not pausing for him. She was done doing his work and being his stupid English partner. She was so sick of him.

"Imogen," Jake said, grabbing her arm.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" Imogen said, prying her arm from his grasp.

With this Clare put her headphones back on and closed her laptop and made her way into the kitchen not wanting to be a part of the usual Jake and Imogen drama.

"Look, Imogen, please, I'm sorry! I was a total asshole, but I need you to pass English and Spanish." Jake pleaded with her.

"I am ever so touched by your overly sincere apology," she deadpanned, turning on her heel and making her way to the door.

"What if I can make it worth your while?" Jake asked her, blocking her path to the door.

"Please," Imogen scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest. "What could you possibly offer me that would make spending another second with you worth my time?"

"My dad owns a cabin up in the mountains," he began.

"Oh for crying out loud, Jake, I'm not going to some sketchy cabin with you up in the mountains!" Imogen cried in disgust, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation. "I have a bit of self-respect _and _good taste in men."

"I didn't mean it like that, stupid," Jake snapped at her, trying to ignore her last comment. "If you would have let me finish I was going to tell you there was a creek in the woods around there, and you love taking pictures or drawing, or whatever it is that you do, and I think you'd love it if I showed it to you."

Imogen was intrigued. She needed more photos for her portfolio for S.C.A.D and what did she have to lose by going up into the woods for a few nature shots with Jake Martin besides her pride?

She gnawed on her lip for a few moments. Her pride or portfolio: which did she love more? Finally gave a defeated sigh. "Fine, I'll help you. This place better be amazing or I might just drown you in that stupid creek."

"I wouldn't put it past you," Jake deadpanned.

Imogen just rolled her eyes and place a hand on her hip. "As long as you behave we won't have any problems."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Moreno. So do we have a deal?" He asked, holding out his hand to Imogen.

Imogen nodded, taking Jake's large hand in her tiny one and shook it once and dropped it.

With that Jake smiled and led her over to the dining room table.

* * *

"This book is so stupid!" Jake said, smacking it down against the table.

"The only thing stupid about this book is how it ends, besides that this book is very insightful for feminism. I guess being a supposed "alpha male"," she said, putting air quotes over the term, "you wouldn't understand."

"As if you go through anything this stupid lady does," Jake scoffed.

"Actually I do. My actions are judged every day on a totally different scale yours is, and sexual activity is just a lose-lose situation for any female. So maybe you should read this and maybe understand what it is actually like for a female!"

Jake rolled his eyes and picked up his pencil scribbling down some key points into his notebook.

It was easy to see who had put more time in effort into the project by glancing at notebooks. While Jake's page had a few scribbles, Imogen's had paragraphs, columns of comparing and contrasting the main character, Edna Pontellier to a caged bird, and multiple thoughts about each chapter.

Imogen picked up the guidelines for the assignment due and reread it for the third time since they finished studying for their Spanish test.

"Okay I'll type up the essay and you create flash cards for the oral report you have to read. Do you guys have a photocopier?"

"Yeah, here I'll go do it." Jake said taking her notebook and making his way down the hallway.

Imogen slumped in her chair, stiff from sitting to long, but too tired to actually stand up and stretch. She couldn't wait to go home and take a nap, she'd hold off on typing the essay until tomorrow, it's not like Jake would care.

"So do you have a ride, or do you want me to drive you home?" Jake asked as he came back into the room holding the notebook out to her.

"I'm just going to take the bus," she said, stuffing her notebook into her bag.

"No, I'll drive you," Jake said.

"Imogen," Helen Martin said, poking her head into the room, "would you like to stay for dinner, I'm making this new recipe I found with short ribs."

Imogen thought about it, her dad was working tonight and her mother was probably out with friends since it wasn't her week to have her daughter so it would be a lonely night with Volta and a frozen dinner.

"Sure, thank you Mrs. Martin," she said, smiling.

Helen nodded and went back into the kitchen.

"I hate that you call her Mrs. Martin." Jake said, slumping in his chair.

"Well that's what she told me to call her!" Imogen hissed at him.

"Just call her Helen; you've been over so much that she may as well adopt you."

"I can't call her Helen, that's disrespectful, and I don't come over here _that _much." She snapped, putting her tiny nose in the air.

Jake was about to open his mouth with a comeback when Clare walked into the room holding a board game, "Do you guys want to play before dinner?"

"Sure," Imogen said, helping Clare clear off the table.

* * *

"I think it was Cornel Mustard in the library with the dagger," Jake said confidently.

The three teens were on their third heated match of Clue with Clare and Imogen tied.

"You're wrong," Imogen said with a smirk reading over her check list.

"What's wrong with my guess?" Jake asked, trying to peer over at her list.

"No cheating, Mr. Martin." Imogen said. "You were wrong about the dagger."

"And you were also wrong about the library," Clare said with a smirk.

"Damn," Jake said with mock disappointment as Clare picked up the dice from the board.

Imogen enjoyed the time she spent over at Jake's home, she loved becoming friends with Clare and at times, she supposed Jake was her friend as well. But overall Imogen how homey their house was. Pictures littered the walls, the tables; anywhere a picture or an award of some accomplishment could go it would be displayed. She didn't have that at her dad's or mom's.

With the divorce family just wasn't on the priority list for either of her parents. They had their own lives and Imogen got to stay and be a part of it every other week. It got tiring at times, being alone with her dog at her dad's and her cat, Presto, at her mothers. Sometimes she wanted to come home to a house where people talk to her and made her cute snacks and asked her questions about her day, unlike the silence that always greeted her no matter which house she stayed at.

"Imogen, it's your turn," Clare said, bringing Imogen back into the Edward's dining area.

"Oh, sorry," Imogen said, flustered she picked up the dice and rolled a seven. "I think it was Mrs. Peacock in the hallway with the rope."

"Sorry, Immy," Clare said, "but Mrs. Peacock isn't the suspect."

Imogen laughed as Jake picked up the dice.

"Clare, Jake, can you come get the dishes to set the table for me?" Helen called from the kitchen.

"Yeah, Mom," Clare called to her.

"I'll put away the board game," Imogen offered.

"Thanks, it goes in the closet at the end of the hall." Clare said, gesturing to the only hallway where the closet could possibly be.

Imogen nodded and made her way down the hall to the closet only to pause at a picture of a very familiar, but much younger version of Jake Martin. She observed the photo of the little boy in the plaid button down shirt, his two front teeth missing in his big toothy grin, and a backwards baseball cap holding a fishing rod that had a fish hanging off of it proudly.

Imogen couldn't help but smile at the photo.

"Like what you see?" Jake's voice came from the hall entrance.

Imogen jumped, dropping the game to the floor. "Announce yourself before you sneak up on a person like that!" She berated him, placing a hand over her pounding heart.

"As if you're one to talk," he said going over to stand next to her.

"It's a cute picture," she said once she picked the game up from the floor.

"I guess," he said with an uncaring shrug.

"How old were you?"

"Seven, maybe," he said, his eyes distant as he looked at the photo. "My mother took that picture when she taught me how to fish."

Imogen shifted uncomfortably. It was rare for Jake to talk about his mother, and she knew that it was a topic to avoid. She never knew what to say when he brought her up because prying just led to an unnecessary fight.

"Dinners on the table," Jake said, taking the game from her hands. "Go help yourself; I'll be there in a minute."

Imogen nodded and made her way to the living room, turning back to see that Jake hadn't moved from his spot in front of the photograph.

Imogen felt her face form a pitiful gaze, wanting to say something to comfort him, but she knew there was nothing to say. Anything she would say to him would just bring on anger and make him shut down completely, and she knew better than anyone that some scars were better to heal at their own pace.


	8. The Painting

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi**

* * *

**The Painting**

"C'mon, Martin," Imogen said, dragging Jake to the art room. "Move your butt. C'mon!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming; you don't have to drag me, Moreno." He said, trying to keep up with her brisk pace.

She opened the art room door and stopped, making him crash into her, earning himself a glare.

"Well how was I supposed to know you'd stop," he defended himself, raising the hand she wasn't grasping in surrender.

She gave a haughty sigh. "Close your eyes, and if you peek, I swear I'll beat you with a canvas."

"What's the big secret?" Jake said, teasing her a bit.

"Just do it, stupid." She said, earning herself an eyebrow raise from him. "Please. I don't want you to see anything until it's ready."

Her soft tone and pleading eyes made him melt, and slowly but surely, Jake Martin closed his eyes.

She led him into the room and placed him in the center in front of a canvas covered with her jacket.

Taking off the jacket and tossing it to the table it revealed a painting of a creek with mountains in the horizon and lush green trees with sunlight pooling through the cracks, and in the center of it all was Jake, sitting and looking out into the distance. She smiled, looking and appraising her work, then turned to him.

"Okay," she said quietly, "open your eyes."

He did and his eyes widened looking at it.

"Please tell me you like it," she said quietly, in an uncharacteristic needy voice.

"It's –" But he didn't know what to say in response to it. It was as if it was taken from that weekend at the cabin, not a detail missing or out of place.

"I tried to get everything right. I painted it all from memory, and –" She trailed off, looking at him. "You hate it, don't you?"

Jake broke out of his revere and looked at her, grabbing her hand. "No, I love it. It's perfect."

Imogen beamed. "I'm submitting it to the art fair, but once I have it back, it's all yours."

Jake's eyes widened a bit. "You're giving it to me?"

She nodded with a teasing smile. "I told you, Jake, you're cabin was lacking in art."

He laughed, even though it wasn't really funny. "I'm not sure about how my dad and Helen will feel, but I think it's exactly what the cabin needs."

It was a permanent mark of their weekend they had spent their. All the fights they had shared, the fun, the quiet moments. In a way, this picture was him and Imogen. The grey areas of the moments when they were so black and white, when they stopped and sat quietly with each other, when their walls came down and opened up, sharing the things they didn't dare tell anyone else.

The quiet moments where their passion lived more lively and real then when they kissed or fought.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and she turned to face him smiling.

"I love you," he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss her.

She froze, her smile falling slightly, and her pulse quickened. She was like a deer caught in headlights seeing him lean forward.

Apart of her, where logic and reason existed in her mind, wanted her to take off and run away from him. The flight instinct she always had when they had moments like this. But these moments, no matter how rare they were, never escalated to this. It wasn't a part of their quiet agreement. What she had signed up for.

Even though she felt whole that night under the stars beside him, she'd never admit it out loud. She couldn't. Rocking the boat never ended well for her, she wanted to play it safe.

But she nearly laughed. Play it safe with Jake? There was no such thing anymore, if there ever was a chance to avoid her feelings. She and Jake had woven themselves together in their mutual silences in the auditorium, in those angry heated arguments, in those kisses; in all the times they spent together they had knitted themselves tightly into a single person.

Maybe it was fate that they met in the hallway his first week of school. And maybe it was fate, or Ms. Dawes' plan, that they were paired in English and fell more and more into their relationship. But whatever it was, Imogen knew that she could run and leave Jake here and he'd move on eventually, but would she?

She couldn't run from the fact that she was in love with Jake Martin. She knew it long before their date or the weekend at the cabin. She had felt it when she had seen him at that Frostival, kissing Katie. The jealousy and the betrayal, even though they weren't together and she had no right to those feelings. She felt such a need to get back at him that she had kissed Owen just to make him feel how she felt.

It was easier to avoid the feeling of love or jealousy when they argued.

Imogen knew that kissing him back and admitting her feelings was a leap. A leap she was terrified to take, because where she was alone on the cliff, no one could hurt her. She couldn't be broken again. No one could use her and toss her aside when she got boring.

But at the end of the long jump, after all the bumps and bruises, Jake would be there, arms wide open ready to finally catch her.

She began leaning into his kiss, and when their lips caught the fireworks exploded, and the butterflies battered their wings around her stomach.

"I love you too, Jake. Always have, always will."

"Always, huh? But those times you said you hated me –" He begin to tease her, but she smacked his harm lightly.

"Don't ruin the mood, you stupid ass." She said with a smile, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

"Well if you want to be more romantic." Jake said with a playful smirk and shrug of the shoulders, but his face grew serious. "I love you, Imogen. And I love this picture you painted of our weekend together."

"So where do we go from here?" She asked quietly, her voice small again

He kissed the top of her head. "We could head back to my place. Clare will be doing victory laps to find out we finally got together."

Imogen rolled her eyes. "You over exaggerate too much." But squeezed his hand and gave him a toothy grin. "But I'd love to come over to your place. I suppose Helen is missing me, I haven't been to dinner in weeks."

"Yeah, yeah, the folks will be thrilled that their surrogate daughter has become my girlfriend." Jake said, leading her out of the art room.

"Nothing they haven't already experienced." She teased.

"Ha. Ha." He said, flicking her nose and earning himself a slap in the stomach. "Ow. Learn to be gentle with your boyfriend, Moreno."

Imogen shrugged and smiled. "All's fair in love and war, Jake Martin." She said, and began her brisk pace. "C'mon, and I think you should let your girlfriend drive."

"Oh, that's never happening ever again." He said, trying to keep up. "But good try though."

"You can't blame a girl for trying." She said with a laugh, but grabbed his keeps and sprinted off.

"Hey!" He cried after her.

"Sorry, Jake Martin, but you'll have to catch me if you want to drive!" She called over her shoulder, sprinting down the hall, jingling his keys with a laugh.

Jake shook his head, letting out a laugh of his own and went after her.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Inspired by the gif set by rhymingtruths on tumblr


	9. The Party

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.**

* * *

**The Party**

Fiona's condo was crowded wall to wall with people. If Imogen didn't know any better, she would have said that the whole school had come, but she knew that this party was blacklisted for _cool _seniors only. She was only an exception because Eli had practically forced Fiona to invite her, and she was starting to wish she'd stayed home and watched a movie in her lonely house with her cat. At least her cat meowed at her and acknowledged her existence.

Okay, more than a few boys noticed her when she came out in the simple, boring black dress Fiona had given her to wear right after she'd arrived, but the initial surprise had died down. Once a few would begin a conversation with her she'd say the wrong thing and fail to be "cool" and someone she wasn't. Others had simply gotten over being impressed. Sure, she looked hot, but she wasn't the only good looking girl at the party, she wasn't the least bit special.

As she sat on the couch fingering the black material, Imogen began feeling stupid to be surprised that Fiona was trying to make her change. It should have been clear from the very beginning, after all, why would the fabulous Fiona Coyne want to be her friend when she had people like Katie Matlin and Marisol Lewis?

With a heavy sigh, she ran her fingers through her hair; it had been years since she had it lay flat around her face, she didn't like it one bit. She felt naked without her pigtails or buns. In this dress and hairstyle she felt exposed to the world as a boring teenage girl, nothing special, just another pretty face in a crowded area.

"You look different tonight," someone said as they sat down beside her.

She smirked; she didn't need to turn her head to see who it was.

"Fancy seeing you here, Jake Martin," she said coyly. "I didn't peg you for the partying type."

"I could say the same thing for you." He retorted as he took a sip of whatever he had in his red cup.

She was surprised that there was alcohol here.

Imogen was worried about Fiona, she was a recovering alcoholic and shouldn't be tempted by the drinks Owen, Julian, and a few of the other guests had smuggled from their parents' liquor cabinets.

"And I never pegged you as someone who'd drink," she said, eyeing the red cup, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Oh I passed on the alcohol; I'm a designated driver for a few people, so no beer for me." He said with an uncaring shrug.

She raised an eyebrow, not believing that story for a second, until he lowered the cup and revealed it to be soda, sans the alcohol based on the lack of smell.

Imogen couldn't help but be happy by that. She didn't know why she cared whether or not Jake drank; it was his business, after all. Maybe it was because she was lonely at this stupid party and wanted someone to talk to and keep her company, even if that someone _had _to be Jake Martin.

"So are you excited for the new year?" Jake asked, trying to make small talk.

"I'm excited to leave it behind; I'm so over high school." She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and facing him.

"Someone's got a case of senioritis," he said, setting his drink on the coffee table.

"It isn't that," she said solemnly. "I just… Well this is cliché: I hate high school."

Jake let out a chuckle. "Yeah, I'm not a fan of it either, but barely anyone enjoys it."

"That's true. The only people who enjoy it are these people in this room. For most of them, this is sadly as good as their lives will ever get." She said, her eyes sweeping over the faces of her fellow classmates with a look of pity.

Jake laughed. "Yeah, it is pretty sad."

"So what's your dream?"

"My dream?" he snorted, raising an eyebrow at her.

"You know once graduation rolls around, what do you plan to do with the rest of your life?"

"I dunno, really," he said offhandedly, and then after a pensive look slowly conceded, "I think I really want to go into construction. My dad owns a business and I've been around it my whole life. I'm actually trying to convince him to be greener, but he hasn't liked the idea _yet_." He shrugged, trying to be cool and aloof about it, but she could see the hurt on his face, and couldn't help but feel sorry for him. "What about you?" He asked suddenly. "What are your big plans?"

"I'm going to apply to a bunch of art schools; I want to be a photojournalist. Travel the world and tell the stories of those I see in my travels through my photos." She said, relaxing into the back of the couch with a faraway look on her face.

Jake couldn't help but be mesmerized by her as he eyed her. He'd never seen someone talk with so much passion about taking photos.

"It's stupid, right?" She said suddenly, laughing to herself.

"No, it's not." Jake said, making her look over. "I think it sounds like something I'd expect from a girl like you."

Imogen quirked an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes at him, "A girl like me?"

Jake swallowed, not sure if he had offended the girl. "Yeah, you know, different. Trust me; you are going farther in your life than some of these people ever dreamed of. Your life –"

"Oh a _"your life is just beginning" _speech, that's how you're really planning to win me over tonight, Jake Martin?" She said tonelessly, smirking a bit.

"Who says I'm trying to win you over?" He asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Please, we may have only shared meetings in an auditorium, but I know guys like you."

"Guys like me, huh? Well unless I'm now sporting guy-liner and nail polish –"

"No, I mean the guys who think they're these smooth players, but ultimately fail." She said, observing the ends of her hair. "You always fall for the girl, head first. And you always end up getting hurt. You try so hard to be casual, to not let your heart get involved, but you know as well as I do that you're not capable of it. You're a fraud."

He scoffed. "Please. You don't even know what you're talking about"

"You know I'm right." She said, dropping her hair and eyeing him. "I've always been right when it comes to you. I mean you fell for Clare, and wasn't she only supposed to be your little make out pal?"

"Imogen, I will never fall for you. Ever," he said, vowing more to himself than to her.

Imogen raised an eyebrow. "That's good, because I'll never fall for you. You're way to boring for me."

Jake clenched his jaw. She thought _he _was boring, well he'd show her.

Suddenly, without thinking it through, he cupped her cheek and before she knew it, he'd kissed her.

It was soft, his lips against hers. So unlike how Eli had kissed her. His were urgent, and he'd called her _Clare_, not acknowledging her at all. Jake though, he wasn't in any hurry to keep his delusions alive, he was actually kissing her. And suddenly she was kissing him back.

He intertwined his fingers in her soft locks, pulling her close. Just as his tongue was about to beg for entrance someone smacked him on his back.

"Get a room you two." Drew said, smirking.

Imogen hopped off of the couch and Jake glared at the crowd.

"How about we all play a game?" Marisol suggested, shoving past Imogen.

"Like what?" Fiona asked.

"Well Madam President has the keys to the school so let's do the most epic prank any senior class has ever done."

Imogen wiped her mouth, glaring at Jake who had smirked back.

"How's that for boring, Moreno?" he said cockily.

"Unimpressive at best," she seethed, feeling her cheeks reddened.

He laughed, and then followed the rest of the crowd out the door, as she hesitated for a moment, fingering her lips slowly with a smile. Biting her lip, she followed the last of the group out of the loft.


	10. The Snowflakes

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.**

* * *

**The Snowflakes**

It was cold outside, and the weather predicted snow sometime soon.

Imogen looked around the street from the top step of the school, half hoping to see her mother, who had promised to pick her up from school that morning. She wasn't in the least surprised that her mother's car wasn't in carpool. She couldn't even remember a time when her parents had gone near her school; they probably didn't even know the name of Degrassi – let alone its location.

She sighed, pulling her coat closer as a sharp breeze cut through her. Once upon a time, not seeing her parents in the carpool lane would have upset, maybe even made her cry, and she probably would have sat on the steps for hours waiting for them until someone would get concerned and tell her to go to the office, or she'd give up the wait and head home herself. Now though, it was just natural to see them not there.

Imogen had learned over the years, way before their divorce, that she was just a mistake of a failed marriage shuffled between them every other week. It was the clichéd old tales of parents forgetting which week it was and children being neglected because their Doctor Parents where to busy being caught up in their own lives. She preferred when neither of them made promises to her, it always ended messy, with one accusing the other of it being "their turn" and "how could THEY forget HER?"

It was tiring after a while.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her ipod and put in the ear buds, then buried her hands deep into her pockets, cursing herself for forgetting mittens.

With her volume turned to max, she drowned out the sounds of her fellow students on the steps who were chanting excitedly about weekend plans and headed down the steps and across the street.

As she made her way down the sidewalk, a car horn honked, making her jump and turn to the source, and seeing who it was she pressed the pause button and pulled out the ear buds.

"Hey Moreno," Jake called from the window he opened of his truck, "want a ride?"

She bit her lip as he gave her his signature smirk, and she rolled her eyes.

"My parents always told me not to get in a sketchy man's car." She retorted.

"Well you never one for the rules, Moreno," he said easily. "Hop in; it's like a damn tundra out there."

Imogen contemplated it for another moment, her hand hesitating over the door handle, like it would burn her if she dared to touch it.

"I promise I won't take you out to the woods and ax you to death," he joked.

"So you'll take me out to the woods and murder me a different way?" she asked.

"Guess you'll have to get in and find out." He shrugged easily.

She pulled the door open and climbed in.

"Thanks," she mumbled to him as she pulled her seatbelt on.

"No problem," he said, turning the volume of the radio backup and a man with a thick accent sang about some girl who he wanted to marry, but she was with another, and she could have done better.

"Why am I not surprised that you listen to country," she said, leaning her head against the cold window, getting comfortable.

Jake laughed. "What do you have against country?"

"Everything," she said, watching the houses pass by, "My turns up here, on the left."

Instead of slowing, Jake continued to drive.

"Jake!"

"As if you really want to go home," he said playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be a creep! Turn around."

But he didn't. She gritted her teeth in annoyance.

"Jake," she hissed out slowly.

"C'mon, there's a cool place you have to see."

"Says the serial killer in every TV show," she said dryly.

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon Moreno, where's your sense of adventure?"

She sighed. "Fine, whatever," she said, turning back to the window in defeat.

He grinned, turning up the radio some, much to her annoyance.

But Imogen couldn't deny that she was slightly curious about where he was taking her. It was kind of exciting, in a way.

* * *

He drove on, the radio switching from one song to the next, some sad, other's happy, and neither spoke a word. Jake finally pulled off the main road and down a bumpy dirt path, stopping in front of a chain link fence where the remains of a church were.

"Wow," she said sarcastically, "Laying the clichéd romance a little thick here, Martin."

Jake simply chucked, opened his door and climbed out.

She sighed and followed him.

"I got lost my first week here, and I found it by mistake. It's one of the few places where you can go and it's quiet. No traffic, no city sounds. Just the quiet sounds of nature."

Imogen would have laughed, but she knew Jake was a country boy. He hated Toronto. He was a simple guy, who wanted a quiet life out in the woods. He was on the surface very boring. But she knew better. Not that she'd ever tell him as much.

"It's pretty here," she said, looking around, which she hadn't left her sketchbook in her locker.

"Yeah," he said, looking around too.

"So is this the part where you kiss me? Or do you not want to be too cliché?" she teased, sitting down on the floor inside the ruins.

He laughed, sitting beside her. "No, no." Then he lay back, looking up at the sky. "You didn't want to go home did you?"

"Not really," she said, joining him in the cloud watch. But there were no clouds to be seen, a big promise of snow. "Sometimes I feel like neither my mom's house nor my dad's house is mine. Like I'm some burden caught between them."

"That must really suck."

"It does, sometimes. I hate it when they make promises. Neither of them can keep them, and there's always a stupid part of me that believes them. It sucks."

She didn't know why she was telling him this. But she always found herself confessing things to him. With Jake, she knew he was judging her, but he was so laidback and unmoved, that it felt safe. He was someone who got her in away. And in return to her opening up with him, he did it back. She knew certain things about him. How his mom died. About how he felt like his dad didn't care about him. How he hated being underappreciated by his dad.

They just simply understood things no one else could.

"My dad's making me go to college next year." He said sullenly.

Imogen looked over at him, but he kept his eyes on the blue, cloudless sky above.

"I'm sorry," were the only words she found to say to him.

"I am too. A lot of wasted money and time," Jake sighed. "Why won't he listen to me for a change?"

Imogen reached out to him, but suddenly Jake sat up.

"Why can't he understand that I get things? I'm smart enough to know what I want! I suck at school, and all I'll ever be good at is what I'm doing now – and it's all I want to do either way!"

"He wants what's best for you, I guess," Imogen said, and felt guilty saying it. Those were the wrong words to say, and Jake let her know it, too.

Glaring at her, he said, "No. He wants what's best for _him_. It's the same old, same old. And I'll end up doing what he wants because I'm the good obedient son."

Imogen frowned, looking back up at the sky, as if it'd give her the right words to say to Jake.

"Then don't go. You're great at what you do, Jake. Lots of people would hire you."

Jake snorted. "That's pretty naïve to think, Moreno."

She shrugged. "It's not like people care if you have a degree for something's. All that matters to people is if you know what you're doing, and if you're going to do the job right. Oh, and they probably like a nice price, too."

Jake snorted. "No one's going to hire a kid."

"There are more construction businesses besides your dad's, Jake. Glen Martin isn't the only construction man in Canada."

"If he ever found out –" Jake began.

"He'd regret it instantly," Imogen said, looking away from the sky and back at him. "You are great at what you do."

"And what about you, Moreno? You're still going to Savannah?" Jake asked.

"As long as I get that acceptance letter, I'll be out of this place." She said, smiling.

But Jake frowned, looking away from her. "Yeah… you'll be away."

"Aw, don't be sad, Martin. You'll still pass English with flying colors, thanks to me."

Jake snorted. "Every time you can bring up that stupid project, don't you have anything new?"

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Suddenly, something cold hit her cheek. Then another speck hit her on the nose. Snow. It was finally snowing.

Jake smiled at this. "It's not like I'd miss you. You are a pain in the ass, after all."

And they both knew he was lying. Because they both knew that they'd miss each other like hell, and both were far too proud to say it.

"Likewise, Martin," she said, smiling coyly, "Likewise."

* * *

**Author's Note: **How long has it been? But I've updated! Hooray for me!


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